


teasing of the fire

by ThePenultimateAvenger



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-02
Updated: 2014-05-02
Packaged: 2018-01-21 14:54:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1554344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePenultimateAvenger/pseuds/ThePenultimateAvenger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve finds out the Bucky starred in a porno once. Cue awkwardness as he tries to figure out what to do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	teasing of the fire

It's not that Tony hasn't sent him some pretty weird links in the past, because he _definitely_ has. That's just Tony's thing. He sends people links to creepy science news and videos of vageuly off-putting animals, and Steve's pretty sure that most of the people on the guy's friends list have just learned to deal.

But Steve honestly doesn't understand why the guy would send him a link to a gay porn video, because it's not like he's ever revealed his bisexuality. Which, okay, Steve wouldn't be surprised if Tony _had_ figured it out somehow because the guy's good at figuring out people's secrets, but the fact remains that typical friends (and Steve would use the loosest definition of the word) do not send each other porn recommendations.

And then Steve sees who the video's star is, eyes going wide, and _yeah_ , he kind of gets why Tony would feel the compulsion to send this to him.

Amongst the poorly-written plot and frankly terrible music, there's Bucky with a sultry look on his face as he loosens the crimson tie around his neck.

Steve's heart is pounding and he knows he should close the tab because this is a part of Bucky's private life that he was probably never meant to see, but the video time skips and then Bucky's getting his dick sucked by a skinny blond who's on his knees, making the most _gorgeous_ faces, and Steve can't look away. He feels his own lips parting slightly, his breath coming faster as he tries in vain to convince himself to stop watching.

Video Bucky tightens a hand in the smaller man's hair, glancing briefly up at the camera with a look that makes Steve feel almost as though he's been caught.

And then the video time skips again.

This time Bucky has the blond bent over the office desk, biting his lip as he thrusts in, and Steve is so caught up in it that the Facebook message nearly makes him jump out of his already uncomfortably tight pants.

He closes the tab finally, feeling guilty and way too turned on.

“ _Earth to Rogers, don't tell me I broke you_.”

Steve takes a breath before typing out a reply, trying not to let his hands shake. “ _Haven't you ever heard of respecting someone's privacy, Stark_?”

He doesn't wait for a reply, just shuts his computer off and heads to the bathroom for the coldest shower he's ever taken.

* * *

Steve is sitting on his bed, sketchbook in his lap, when he hears the keys in the door.

He's been mentally preparing for this moment for the past hour, constantly reminding himself to act super normal because it's not like anything's different about Bucky. Except that...well, something _is_ kind of different because now Steve knows his best friend _isn't_ straight which is going to make the six odd years of feelings he's had for the guy a bit more difficult to hide.

“God, you would not _believe_ what a dick my calculus professor is.” Bucky grumbles as he tosses his backpack onto his own bed, letting the door fall shut behind him. “Not only did he lose nearly a week's worth of homework, but he won't let anyone in the class make it up because he doesn't have time to grade it.”

Steve swallows, feeling his fight-or-flight instincts kicking in the moment Bucky sits down. He feels his stomach bottom out before he's moving, trying his very hardest not to visualize that gaddamned video as Bucky gives him a questioning look from the other side of the room. It's ridiculous to panic, he knows, but without even thinking about it he's on his feet shoving his sketchbook and laptop into his messenger bag. “I, uh.” Unintentionally squeaky voice. _Great_. Steve clears his throat and tries again. “I'm sorry to hear that.” He can feel Bucky's eyes on him despite the fact that he's staring diligently at the wall and all he can think about is that video, words leaving him in a rush as he fights off the nervous bouts of butterflies in his stomach. “I have to, um. Do a thing at the, uh...the library? I might be back kinda late so, y'know, don't wait up or anything.”

Steve knows his face is burning as he nearly runs out the door, and he knows that explaining this later is going to be nigh impossible, but he just can't be stuck in such a small dorm room with Bucky right now. There's no way he'd survive.

He doesn't want to act weird around Bucky—of _course_ he doesn't. The guy's been his best friend since _forever_ and, really, it's none of Steve's business what Bucky does to earn a little spare cash. This shouldn't be such a big deal.

But Steve still feels like his entire world has been turned around.

Later, after at least a half hour of wandering aimlessly around campus because the library had been a complete lie, Steve takes a seat on one of the many benches on campus and pulls out his phone, shooting a quick text to Sam.

 _You wanna grab a couple drinks?_  He only asks because it's Friday and he figures getting a bit drunk and ranting about hot best friends is an appropriate Friday thing to do.

The response comes almost immediately. _You know I'm in._

* * *

Fury's Bar is close enough to campus to be convenient but far enough away that it's not completely full of rowdy college kids (though that might have less to do with distance and everything to do with the general disposition of the owner-slash-bartender, Nick) and it's thankfully not too busy when Steve and Sam get there.

Fury's not working the bar when they approach to order drinks, and the young woman wiping down the counter (whose name Steve can't quite remember, though he thinks its something along the lines of Mary or Maria or something) smiles brightly when she spots them. “Hey there, guys. What can I get you?”

“Two beers, please.”

“Comin' right up.” Maria—Steve is almost certain her name is Maria—turns to fill a couple glasses while Sam leans his elbows on the counter.

“So what's the occasion, Rogers?” he asks once they have their drinks, following Steve over to one of the leather-covered booths. “Classwork bringing you down?”

“Long day.” Steve says in response, shrugging. He takes a long sip of his beer, trying not to cringe at the taste as he takes a sweeping look around the bar. There's a game on TV, a small group huddled around that part of the bar, but they're far enough away that Steve and Sam can easily hold a conversation. “And it's been a while since we've last hung out, man. How've you been? You ever ask that girl out?”

“She moved, actually. California, I think. But I've been good otherwise, just trying to keep up with classes.”

“Yeah? How's that one class going...uh, what was it again? Flamenco?”

Sam rolls his eyes at Steve's look. “Ballroom dancing. And I'll have you know, the women in that class are just as smart and beautiful as I expected them to be. Though I have yet to score any dates because, believe it or not, ballroom dancing actually takes some work.”

“No, I'm sure it does.” Steve says with a smile, only slightly skeptical.

“So what about you then, smart guy? How are classes treating you?”

“Oh, it's definitely not classes that are bringing me down.” Steve says with a breathy chuckle.

“So tell me about your long day.”

Steve doesn't even know where to begin, so he decides to get them a couple more drinks. When he sits back down he hands Sam one of the glasses, letting out a sigh before beginning. “I ever tell you about Bucky?”

“You might have mentioned him once or twice. Or a dozen times.” Sam says only a bit sarcastically. “He's your childhood friend who you'd always use as an excuse to avoid double dates with me.”

“Come on, Sam, that was _one_ time.” Steve says.

“Um, that was _four_ times.” Sam quips back. “So what about 'im?”

So Steve tells him.

And then they're a few more drinks in and Steve can't seem to stop the stream of words leaving his mouth, taking full advantage of actually having someone to listen while he vents about years upon years of hidden feelings. “Like, there was this one time in high school when he convinced me to sneak out of the house to go to this party because we were freshmen and he thought it would make us look cool or _something_. I didn't really want to go but he was set on it so I figured I'd tag along and at least try to keep him out of trouble, y'know in case something happened.” Steve can remember it so vividly, right down to the way he'd nearly broken his neck trying to climb out his window. “So we get to this party and Bucky looked so...God, he looked so happy just to _be_ there, like it wasn't just some party thrown by some asshole seniors. But then, _of course_ , someone ended up calling the cops because everyone was underage and there was alcohol everywhere, and I just remember thinking that I'd have to call my mom from a jail cell asking her to come pick me and Buck up, knowing that she'd probably have to pay money we didn't have to get us out.” Steve takes another drink, glancing up at Sam to make sure he's not boring the guy to death. When he's pretty sure Sam is actually interested in the story, he goes on. “So there are teens running in every direction as all these cops try to arrest anyone with a drink in their hands, and Bucky just grabs my wrist and pulls me down the hall to someone's bedroom where we hid under the bed for at least an hour.”

“And you weren't caught?”

“They missed us somehow, but Bucky wouldn't stop apologizing anyway. He bought us slushees from the mini mart around the corner and he wouldn't stop saying how sorry he was that he could've gotten us arrested but I wasn't even angry. Honestly, I would have gone through the whole thing all over again if I had to.”

“You've got it bad, man.” Sam says with a small shake of his head, laughing.

“Yeah.” Steve agrees, staring down at the last of the beer in his glass with a tiny, self-deprecating smile. “Yeah, I do.”

* * *

Steve gets back to the dorms past midnight, fumbling with the lock with a small curse, trying to be quiet because he hopes Bucky is already in bed. He'd gotten maybe a little drunker than he'd initially intended, but he feels better. Sam's a good listener, and while nothing was actually resolved, Steve feels so much freer to have told someone about his feelings for his best friend rather than bottling them up like he'd been doing.

He finally manages to get the door open, stumbling inside as his world tilts dangerously.

“Hey, pal. Where you been?”

Steve jumps at the sound of Bucky's voice, setting his messenger bag on his desk as he turns. Bucky's sitting in the middle of his bed working on homework and Steve feels bad about how little eye contact he can manage. “Finished up the library stuff early so Sam and I went to Fury's for a few drinks.” Some emotion passes across Bucky's face—hurt or concern or something else that makes Steve feel like the shittiest person alive—and for a moment he seriously considers just being completely honest. Pouring everything out in the open and hashing it out while he's still drunk.

“Yeah? I went over there to see if you wanted to grab something to eat but I guess I just missed you.” Bucky seems to search Steve's face for something and Steve finally meets his eyes, caught off guard by the vulnerability he finds there. “I figured I'd get something for you anyway in case you were hungry when you got home, so there's a burrito in the fridge.”

Steve still hasn't looked away and there's a dizziness that he's not sure he can blame on the intoxication, hit again by how much he _wants_ Bucky and how much that video made him want the guy even more. “I um. I ate.” He manages, mouth feeling a little dry. “But I bet it'll be great for the inevitable hangover in the morning. Thanks, Buck.”

Bucky smiles, though there's something in his face that tells Steve that his weird behavior isn't going unnoticed, before closing the binder in his lap. “Don't mention it.”

* * *

Steve finishes his jog around campus just as the morning really begins to warm up, sweat pouring down his face as he stops to catch his breath. Part of him wishes he'd stayed in bed for at least another couple of hours because he can still feel the night of drinking pounding behind his eyes, making him woozy in a way only alcohol can, but Bucky had still been in bed when he'd left and he's not quite ready to be confronted about his strange behavior.

He takes a few long gulps of water before capping the bottle, letting himself fall onto a bench so he can lament his bad life choices for a few minutes. He only closes his eyes for a few seconds, but when he opens them again, Natasha is standing in front of him. “Hey, Rogers. We need to talk.”

Steve blinks. “Natasha?”

“Come on, I'll buy you a sandwich or something.” Natasha motions for Steve to follow her to the student union building, hands in the pockets of her blazer. “You know, most people choose to stay in bed when they have a hangover.”

“Well I guess I'm not most people.” Steve says, confused by the turn of events. He's not entirely sure what Natasha could have to say to him and her expression gives away nothing.

He feels almost like a kid being led to the principal's office.

When they're seated in one of the study areas scattered across the student union building, Steve with a slightly soggy turkey and Swiss sandwich, Natasha finally chooses to speak again. “You saw Bucky's porno.”

Steve nearly chokes at the blunt way she puts it, glancing around to make sure no one's listening. “What?”

“Look. I'm not trying to butt into your business here, Steve, but Bucky and I talk. He and I are friends. I... _may_ have been the one to give him a friend's card. A friend with a camera, if you get my meaning.” Natasha pauses to give Steve a meaningful look before continuing. “He mentioned that you were acting weird. He's concerned that you may have found the video and are having...I don't know, some sort of freak out at the discovery that your best friend isn't straight.”

Steve sighs because he supposes ' _freak out_ ' isn't exactly incorrect. “Okay, look, I was caught off guard. Tony sent me the link and I wasn't expecting it. But I'm not freaking out because I'm in any way homophobic—”

“I'm not here to yell at you, Steve.” Natasha interrupts.

“Then why _are_ you here?”

“I'm here because I'm Bucky's friend. And because I'm your friend. And because there's a one hundred percent chance you're being ridiculous because of your painfully obvious crush.” Natasha smiles when Steve stops chewing, putting a hand up to put him at ease. “He doesn't know. But I'm telling you, you need to get your head out of your ass and talk to the man. He didn't outright say it, but I know he's worried.”

Steve doesn't immediately know what to say, finishing off half of the sandwich and putting the other half back in the box. “Thanks?”

“Just talk to him. And next time you go out drinking, take milk thistle first. Helps minimize hangovers and keeps your liver healthy.”

Steve watches as Natasha walks away, a nervous feeling just underneath his skin. He's not sure if it's because his crush is apparently painfully obvious or if it's because the thought that his weird behavior had been enough to worry Bucky to the point of talking to Natasha about it, but it adds to the woozy feeling he was already suffering from.

He tries to think of what to say as he walks back to the dorms. Natasha hadn't offered much in the way of advice, except maybe to just get over the weirdness, but he thinks there's something she didn't tell him.

He doesn't actually have a plan when he gets back to the room.

“Don't tell me you actually went for a jog.” Bucky says when he steps inside. “How can you possibly go for a jog the morning after getting drunk. You're unreal.”

Steve laughs, moving to the mini fridge so he can stash the half sandwich. His eyes catch the burrito before he closes the door, heart leaping into his throat. “So what are you up to?”

“I was just about to watch this documentary for my film class, actually.” Bucky turns his laptop so Steve can see their shared Netflix home page, opening his mouth to say something but hesitating. “You wanna join me?”

“I'm kinda sweaty. Can I take a shower first?”

“By all means. I'm not letting you into my bed in that state.”

Steve's mind immediately goes where it shouldn't and he all but flees to the bathroom.

Showering takes him ten minutes and in that time he devises, then scraps, at least fifteen different plans on how to approach this situation.

But this is Bucky, he decides. He doesn't need some fancy plan to fix the situation because they're _best friends_ and it'll work itself out, right?

“So what's this documentary about?” Steve asks as he settles in beside Bucky, back against the wall. Their knees brush as Bucky sets his laptop in front of them, turning the volume up a bit.

“Digital versus film. Not exactly an action flick, but it oughta be interesting.”

They're about forty five minutes into it when Steve speaks again, purely on impulse, the words almost startling him as they leave his mouth in a tone barely above a whisper. “I saw your video, Buck.”

“Oh.” Bucky says in response, not turning to look at Steve and Steve kind of wishes he could see his friend's face.

“Why didn't you tell me? Not about the video, I mean, because it's _still_ none of my business and I'm sorry if my watching it was a breach of privacy, but about, y'know. The fact that you're not straight.”

Bucky pauses the documentary, plunging the room into silence before closing his laptop and reaching over to put it on his desk. “It never came up? I was worried what you'd think? I don't know.”

“I'm bisexual.” Steve says after a moment. “I guess I can't be mad that you never told me since I never told you, either.”

Bucky looks over finally and Steve can't decipher the look on his face. “Are you freaked out because I did a porno?”

Steve almost laughs at this but he doesn't. “Of course not, Bucky. Your choices are yours and you were a consenting adult. I'm a bit surprised, I guess, but not freaked out. I mean, how can you prepare yourself to discover a porno of your best friend? Anyone would be surprised.”

“I, um. I used the money they gave me on those concert tickets during our first semester. I told you a friend had won them from a radio contest, but that was a lie.”

Steve feels his stomach flip, suddenly breathless. “You used your porn money to take me to see my favorite band in concert? Bucky, you could have used that money for textbooks or, or gas money, or really anything...you didn't have to—”

“I wanted to.”

“ _Bucky_ , they came with backstage passes, they probably cost you a _fortune_!”

“ _This_ is what you're suddenly concerned about?” Bucky asks incredulously, laughing at the look on Steve's face. “I star in a porn film and you say my choices are mine, but you discover that I spent my porn money on concert tickets for you and you flip? That seems a bit backwards.”

Steve doesn't know what to say.

He opens his mouth, words dying on his tongue as he realizes  again  how hard he's really got it for Bucky. “Can I kiss you?” he  whispers finally, glancing down at Bucky's  _perfect_ lips  as his tongue darts out to wet his own.

A look of surprise passes over Bucky's face but he turns slightly, and they're  _so close_ but Steve refuses to do anything until he has an answer. “Are you serious?”

“Completely.”

“Y-yeah. Sure. Knock yourself out.”

Steve is sure his heart is going to punch a hole through his chest as closes the distance between their mouths,  keeping his hands in his lap as he presses their lips together so lightly that it  can barely be considered a brush. He doesn't want to push anything too quickly—doesn't want to do anything that Bucky objects to. He's just about to withdraw when Bucky uses his teeth to snag his lower lip, letting out something like a growl as his arms wrap around Steve's neck,  pulling him forward . “Don't be a tease, Stevie. It's not nice.” 

Steve swallows, face hot as Bucky's lips move against his. “Sorry. I just...I don't want to make you uncomfortable.”

Bucky pulls away with a chuckle, moving so that he's facing Steve before dragging the blond down on top of him. “The only uncomfortable you have ever made me is uncomfortably turned on.”

Steve tries to adjust his weight so that he's not crushing Bucky while also trying to hide how embarrassingly quickly he's getting hard.

But it's not easy because he's been thinking about doing this for an incredibly long time and it's been at least a week since he last  _did_ anything, and this would be a difficult situation even if he hadn't been permanently aroused for the past twenty four hours because of that damn video.

“Steve, come  _on_ . Less thinking, more making out.” Bucky says indignantly, grinding his hips up as though he knows  _exactly_ what Steve had been thinking about. 

Steve makes a noise in the back of his throat, letting Bucky pull him down for another  searing kiss  that steals the breath from his lungs.  Part of his brain acknowledges Bucky's hands trailing a path down his back, rucking his shirt up and sneaking beneath the waistband of his pants, but it's not until he feels those hands underneath his underwear that he truly realizes their presence, moaning into Bucky's mouth with a small thrust down.

“This is moving really fast.” he manages to say, voice shaky as he ducks down to suck Bucky's lower lip into his mouth.

“I only care if you care.” Bucky's nearly just as breathless, fingers continuing to trace circles on the skin of Steve's ass.

Steve can feel Bucky's erection against his and he sees stars when Bucky rolls his hips up again, dragging in a breath so he can continue whispering against Bucky's lips between kisses. “ I just think...we should...discuss what this means.” Bucky's mouth verges on sinful and Steve can't remember ever tasting anything better, trying to focus on finishing his thought. “ Friendship first and all that.”

“ _Steeeeeve_ .” Bucky groans, moving his hands up to Steve's chest, separating their lips just enough so he can give Steve an exasperated look. “This isn't going to make things awkward, okay? I mean, I can really only speak for myself here, but I think I can say with some amount of confidence that we both want this.”

“ _God_ , I want you, Buck.” 

Bucky smiles, his kiss-bruised lips twisting into something almost devilish. “See? That's something we can work with.”

“But I don't just want to sleep with you, Bucky.” Steve says, and maybe Bucky's right and this isn't the best time for talking. But he's seen at least part of Bucky's track record with one night stands, and he doesn't  necessarily  want to be one of them.

“Is that what you think I want?” Bucky asks seriously, one hand carding through Steve's hair. “That I just want to sleep with you?”

“I don't  _know_ what you want, and that's the problem.”

“Stevie. Come on.  You can't tell me you've never noticed .”

Steve looks down at Bucky with a puzzled look, ignoring the way the other man's fingers had found their way to his belt loops. “What do you mean?”

“My longest relationship over the past two years lasted about a week and a half, and she broke up with me because I spent more time with you than I did with her.” Bucky raises an eyebrow,  using the fingers he has in Steve's belt loops to pull them closer together . “ Natasha called me out within ten minutes of meeting me, asked me if I was aware of the fact that I stared at you like... _God_ , how did she even put it...I think she said something like  _are you aware you stare at him like most people stare at the stars_ ? So no. I don't  _just_ want to sleep with you.”  Bucky grins.  “That part is just an added bonus. ” 

“Okay,” Steve manages, suddenly very sure that this is a dream and he's going to wake up to his alarm clock.  Because he's had dreams like this  before , and  they always end before he can get to the good part . “Okay, that's good.  In that case, t hink you might wanna get dinner with me tonight?”  Somehow the question still comes out sounding as though there's a chance Bucky might say no, as though Bucky isn't just as hard as he is.

“Well, I think there's a chance we're gonna be pretty hungry in a few hours, so maybe we should make that a lunch date.”

Steve has no problem with that.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I have no excuses. I'm sorry.


End file.
